Pokémon - The Old World
by akailin
Summary: Red's ascent to Kanto's throne was met with joy across the land – but can the young monarch carry such a heavy burden? In the fifth year of his reign, a village boy named Joey and his Rattata find their simple lives upended when they set off a bitter clergy-nobility conflict that threatens to tear the fragile Empire apart. Medieval fantasy AU, Brock, Misty, Lance, Blue, etc.
1. Mission

Rattata scurried up the apricorn tree, claws on bark clicking.

"コラッタ!" he called back.

"Hey, wait up!" Joey chased after him, stopping at the tree's roots to look up at his furry friend, who seemed to enjoy taunting him like this. The sprightly young boy grabbed hold of the first branch and the next, hoisting himself up shortly to Rattata's level.

"Wow!" said Joey, marveling at the plentiful bunches hanging all around them, amidst the foliage flecked with newly changing autumn gold. "Good find!"

"コラッ."

He pinched one of the orange-red fruits. The apricorns wouldn't ripen for another three weeks at least, but somehow Uncle wanted them this way, far too firm and tart for the taste. Not for eating, though. For the workshop.

One by one he plucked the suitably young ones off the branch, which he gripped with his other hand for balance, until he had filled his shoulder-bag with as much as he could carry. The rest could wait till harvest.

"コラッ?" Rattata perked up his ears all of a sudden. He dropped at once to the ground into a crunch of fallen leaves, darting away along the forest path whence they had come.

"Hey!" Joey jumped straightaway from the tree, landing with a thud on the soft earth, and followed through the brushwood, twigs cracking underfoot. This was no prank. Rattata must have sensed something, something worth running from. A predator, perhaps? The beedrills ruled the Ilex Forest, they and the noctowls, by day and night in turn. One sting from the vicious insect could paralyze a man; two could make him go mad. Three stings – well, Joey preferred not to wonder.

They emerged into the open air, at the base of the short hill leading up to the village, where Joey spied Rattata up ahead, a speck of white and purple cutting through the grass. Back to the cottage? Why the hurry, then?

He found the road deserted. Azalea Town wasn't exactly the most bustling metropolis this side of the Silvers, but this time of afternoon one might have expected to see at least a few folks milling about. But no, nothing. The bubbling brook, the hum of the ledybas, distant voices...

By the time he got up to their little house, Rattata had reached the wooden door, scratching at its base. He cracked it open to let them both in, feeling a certain sense that he should latch it behind him.

"Uncle?"

He dropped his apricorns by the doorstep. Iron tools and empty vessels lay strewn in disarray about the room. The furnace had no fire, but a thick layer of charcoal dust covered the floor. Joey knew what that meant – Uncle had told him enough tales of blacksmithing accidents. They ran up the stairs to the bedroom, also coated black with the incendiary powder.

"Uncle?"

He stood by the window, blowing the silent whistle he reserved for the most urgent of times. "Joey!" He turned, dropping the instrument from his lips. "Thank the gods!"

"What is it?"

"We don't have much time," he replied curtly, emptying a box of papers from the floor onto his bed. "They'll be here any moment."

No, it couldn't be... "The Imperials?"

"They're here. They're checking every house."

Uncle had mentioned it before, but Joey had always dismissed it as harmless paranoia. What business had the Empire all the way out here? Blackthorn and New Bark had bent the knee to Kanto, but Azalea?

"What? How?"

The old man upended another box, finding what he wanted – a thin, flat package, wrapped in brown leather and tied up with twine. His eyes darted about the room as he crouched down in front of Joey.

"Listen carefully," he began, his voice shaking. "Take this." He folded Joey's hands around the rectangular parcel, and then produced a scrap of papyrus, presenting it as well. "Read these instructions."

Joey obliged, doing his best with Uncle's hasty, cryptic scribbles. "Saffron City?" he protested. "That must be a thousand–"

Uncle pressed a finger over Joey's lips. "They may already be listening!"

"But what does this mean?"

"Have you memorized it?"

"Yes, but–"

Uncle snatched the paper out of his hand, and, to his astonishment, crumpled it into his own mouth and swallowed.

"Unc–"

A rapping at the door below cut him off, draining the blood from his face. "Open the door!" someone shouted outside. "In the Champion's name!"

Uncle lowered his voice to a whisper. "We have friends there. Don't be afraid."

"But I am."

"I have faith in you, you and Rat. Promise you will do this. Promise you won't let them take it. Or you." His words were solemn, final.

"I promise, Uncle," Joey replied.

The knocking downstairs intensified. "We know you're in there. This is your last warning!"

He gave Joey a rushed hug. "Now go. Out the window. Run!"

"You're coming too!"

The old man stood and turned around, taking up a tinderbox from the pile of items. "Gods speed, Joey. I love you."

Joey gaped in horror.

"Machoke, break it down," he heard the muted order. A cry of "ゴーリキー!" and a splintering of wood.

"Go!" Uncle commanded.

Joey peered down through the window beside him. He climbed up onto the sill, holding the parcel under his arm, and Rattata jumped up on him to cling to his collar.

He glanced back at Uncle one last time. The man wore a serene face, eyes closed, muttering some prayer, flint in one hand and steel in the other. Joey could hardly bear to turn away from him, knowing what he meant to do. But Joey had promised. It would not be in vain.

He hurled himself out the window, bracing for the impact into the thorny thicket below. Like jumping from a tree. He surveyed their ways of escape. The hill led down just a short dash back to the woods. They could hide safe among the trees for a time...

"You there!" A sentinel stood over him, brandishing a spear. He bore on his shoulder what Joey knew as the Champion's crest. "Hold it!"

"コラッタ!" Rattata sprung up before Joey could think. The little monster seized upon the enemy, sinking his fangs into the soldier's bare neck, whose spurting warm blood sprayed them both as he collapsed with a weak gurgle.

There was no time for fear, only to run. And run they did, mouse and boy, down the grassy slope, away from the violent blast that destroyed in an instant what they had once called home, away into the forest, into the wild's dark embrace.

* * *

**Next chapter: ****_Challenge_**

* * *

**Author's Notes**

This story's setting is a geographically enlarged, pre-tech version of Kanto and Johto from the RBY/GSC games. The characters are mostly from the anime, although Ash is replaced with Red, since Ash doesn't fit the role. I try to develop them in their own direction here, so I hope no one will be offended by departures from canon, but you can think of the characters as "inspired" by their namesakes.

Pokémon names are capitalized as proper names and lowercase as common nouns (e.g. "A pidgey flew over Pikachu's head"). Their vocalizations are written in katakana to distinguish them from human speech (ピカチュウ=Pikachu, コラッタ=Rattata, etc.).

This is looking up to be a fairly long story. While I won't commit to a specific update schedule, I do have at least the first dozen chapters plotted out, which I'll post as fast as I can write (assuming that people actually express interest, and I'm not just wasting my time...)

Please subscribe/read/review – if you send me your own story I'll return the favor. Enjoy!


	2. Challenge

"カイリキー!" "ウツボット!" the monsters cried. The crash of flesh on earth echoed through the stands of Viridian Stadium. Which of the two had emerged at last on top? Thousands clung with white knuckles to the edges of their seats, straining to see through the haze of dust.

"Victreebel can no longer battle!" The field official pointed with his signal-fan. "Victory to Machamp and the challenger, Lord Hyker of Sandstone!" The crowd erupted in cheers, to which the trainer beamed and turned around, eating it all up.

Brock glanced over at Red, to gauge his reaction. The young Pewterite liked to think he knew a few things about monsters, but in truth, his own attention had begun to lapse as the long morning stretched on. The fine points of battling strategy, which so fascinated his illustrious friend, for him all blurred together; he instead found his thoughts returning again and again to the mound of letters and official papers that awaited him back on his desk. Misty, sitting beside him, must have felt the same way, for her own part.

Red daily entrusted these important governmental functions to the hands of his two closest friends, but he had nonetheless insisted on their company for the tournament, at least for this last day. They deserved it after all their hard work, he had told them, and as he so fondly quoted the old Professor, one who misses the wing for the feathers will fall sharply to earth.

Red had been keenly observing the action from atop his gilded throne, but, evidently unmoved at the outcome, he did little but share a glance with Pikachu on his shoulder.

"Your Majesty," Brock prodded, leaning in towards him.

"..."

He knew that look. The Champion had a certain way of shifting his deep red eyes, a kind of off-center stare that tended to elicit a profuse apology from most anyone else. Ordinarily it would not have troubled him, but as Blastoise and Charizard sat right behind them on the terraced steps, the latter so close that he could feel the dry warmth emanating from the massive creature, the thought of arguing with their master seemed just the slightest bit daunting.

He cut through his apprehension, for his friend's sake. "You should congratulate him."

"ピカ," said Pikachu.

Red looked ahead at the field again, at the simple award ceremony now underway. The officiating priest took the jeweled emblem of office presented by his brethren and lowered it around the neck of the exuberantly laughing Hyker, now Baron of South Viridian.

"Such reckless brute force, I'd hardly commend," Red finally replied.

"Indeed, sire," Elite Agatha speedily agreed. The white-haired old crone sat to Red's other side, grinning Gengar beside her and man-thick Arbok coiled at her feet. She had come of her own accord, never one to miss such a display of violence, albeit in the ritualized form known here in the Capital. "As the trainer, so the leader, we always say. The South Viridianers won't be thrilled."

"I understand, Your Highness, but still," said Brock, addressing Red again, "they expect you to say something."

So they did. He could see the onlookers' expectant eyes, how they were turning pair by pair towards the imperial box. It fell to him to point out these kinds of things, no different from their peregrine days not too long ago, when Brock had been the steward of the maps and the charts, keeping them on course when the whims of adventure would blow them astray. They walked in another sort of territory now, with its own perils and pitfalls, but in which one could just as easily lose one's way unless one trod with care. Red always came around, eventually.

He rubbed an eye behind his mess of black hair. "You know how I hate small talk."

"Just a short speech," Misty offered. "Anything, really."

Red finally drew a deep breath and stood up. His subjects promptly quieted, to hear what precious few words he had for them.

"Well done, my lord!" he said, just as loud as necessary. "Have you anything to say?"

A bit of a dodge, thought Brock, but it'll do. At this point, custom would have dictated that the victor should kneel and offer thanks, and pledge to the Champion his undying loyalty and obedience, and so on and so forth.

This one, however, had something else in mind.

"Yes, one thing," Hyker responded, pausing to survey the crowd and make sure everyone else could see. He lifted his new golden necklace off his shoulders and threw it down to the ground in their direction, pointing straight up at Red. "I challenge you, Champion! Face me and defend your title!"

The crowd rustled with intrigued chatter, while Red twiddled his fingers, looking to Pikachu again.

Brock shook his head. "No, no, he can't do that," he quickly noted. "This isn't even worth one Leader Badge. Not to mention the Elites."

Misty rolled her eyes. "He's a fool, is what he is."

"Something the matter, boy?" the Baron taunted with a drawling sing-song. "Afraid you'll lose?"

Agatha surged up from her chair with the vigor of someone a quarter her age. "You! How _dare_ you speak to–"

Red motioned for her silence, which the whole crowd soon followed.

"ピ?" Pikachu wondered at him. He nodded to his yellow friend, who jumped down to take his empty seat.

"Sire, I don't think..." Brock said after him, but he had already started down the steps to the arena below.

"Cut him a break, will you?" Misty smiled and patted his shoulder. "Poor kid's been sitting up here all day. Gotta get the blood flowing somehow."

"I'll talk with him afterwards. This can't become a regular thing."

"Hush, both of you," Agatha hissed, resuming her seat. "I'm trying to hear this."

Red finally came to a stop where the glittering chain lay, and everyone could hear it jingle as he extracted it from the dust.

"What do you want?" he asked softly, examining the medallion.

"Your defeat," the trainer answered, loud and clear.

This Lord Hyker, not especially tall himself, stood about eye-to-eye with Red, but must have outweighed his teenaged opponent by a considerable margin. Stout and sturdy of frame, he wore a scraggly black beard across his round chin, and held his fists on his hips. Machamp loomed over him from behind, fresh on the heels of his victory, while to his left and right, Graveler and Nidorino snarled with anticipation.

Brock, Misty, and Agatha listened closely. "We can't have a fair match, if they haven't recovered yet," Red replied, as he removed and pocketed his ring.

"Ha!" Hyker snapped at the obvious bait. "What do you mean, recovered? We haven't even got started!"

Red looked over his shoulder towards the bench, not to his friends, but to his own team behind them. Charizard gave an affirmative grunt, thoroughly quashing any lingering notion Brock might have had to intervene.

"All right, let's see what you've got," said Red with a thin smile, rolling up his sleeves. The spectators murmured excitedly. "Three on one? Take your pick."

"Had my eye on that one all day," Hyker replied without delay, pointing. "The shellfish!"

"Blastoise!" Red called out. "I choose you!"

"カメックス!"

The ground shook under the footfalls of the giant tortoise, who sprung down the steps to join Red in the center, with a swiftness surprising from so heavy a creature. From his place behind his master, he flexed his water-cannons, each the size of a tree trunk, and leered at his three opponents.

Red twirled the necklace around and around, winding it up into his hand. "Reverend, would you please?"

The official had meanwhile taken to the sideline in frantic whispers with his two colleagues, no doubt concerning the questionable validity of a match initiated in such irregular circumstances. But he soon turned back to the eagerly waiting trainers, catching the chain as Red tossed it to him. "Sequential or simultaneous?" he asked.

Of course, no trainer in their right mind would agree to so great a handicap...

Red smiled again at the challenger, rubbing his hands together. "Whaddya say, Squirt?"

The monster let out a low growl, baring his short fangs.

"So. Simultaneous."

The crowd gasped as one. They would not soon forget this spectacle.

The priest handed off the chain to one of the others, receiving a sand-timer in return. "Let it begin," he declared, flipping the glass and holding it high. "Contestants will prepare until the time expires!"

Back in the stands, Agatha chuckled at the word. "Hm. Less a contest, more a massacre."

"What could the Baron be thinking?" Misty wondered. "You'd think after a while they'd learn."

"The age difference, I'd bet," Brock speculated. "But I don't understand. Why would he accept such a low-level challenge?"

"He'll do well to make an example of such arrogance," Agatha answered, with a certain somber gravity.

"But Your Highness," Brock began to reply, "it might be worth taking a more diplomatic approach–"

"You and your politics," Agatha groaned. "I don't need to hear this again."

"I just think it's poor form. It looks like meddling in local affairs."

"Believe me, dear boy. No one will say a word after seeing this."

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

"Well, you're probably right as usual," Misty conceded, "but no stopping him now. Might's well enjoy it, just once." She turned to one of the servants standing dutifully by. "Hand me some of those, will you?"

The attendant obliged, bringing forth a basket of toasted nutpeas. "Want some?" She offered them to Brock.

"Uh, no, thanks."

* * *

"Preparation time has expired," the official announced. "Approach the center."

Red finished his consultation with Blastoise, and gave him a tap on the side. "Go for it."

"カメックス!" He took his place at the edge of the inner circle, as Red backed up to the outer one, and their opponents did likewise.

The priest threw down a dash of salt crystals, according to the familiar rite. "From the East, the challenger, with Nidorino, Graveler, Machamp. From the West, the defender, with Blastoise. A simultaneous triple battle to single match." He formed the horned-eye sign with one hand, pointing to heaven and to the trainers in turn. "Hail Lugia, Maker of Peace."

Red repeated the gesture over his heart, bowing to his opponent. "Hail Lugia, Maker of Peace."

Hyker mumbled the invocation inaudibly if at all.

"Ready. Get set... Go!"

"Get 'im, boys!" shouted Hyker immediately. Machamp lunged right at the tortoise with rock-hard fists clenched, blocking the other two from the frontal zone – a mistake even a novice could see. The punches whistled through thin air as Blastoise dodged to his right.

"That the best you've got?"

"Ice beam!"

Blastoise sucked up his breath and shot a snowy-white ray from his mouth, widening his stance to connect it with Graveler. The round rocky monster went tumbling backward, hitting Machamp in the leg.

"ゴローン!" Graveler cried as the frost encased him, rendering him immobile.

"Water gun, reach left!" Red continued.

"カメ!" The twin jets of water from his back at once swept Nidorino off his feet and knocked the already unsteady Machamp to the ground. The top-heavy humanoid would stay down for some crucial moments.

The Baron growled. "Hnnng, go, 'Rino! Double kick!"

"ニド!" He scrambled back up and hurled himself at Blastoise with all of his venomous spiky menace.

"Withdraw!"

Blastoise's domed shell deflected the spiny creature, who rebounded to his other side.

"Gotta do better than that," Hyker mocked.

"Skull bash water gun tackle!" Red directed.

"カメックス." He emerged readily from his shell. First he threw himself headfirst at Machamp and slammed into his broad chest, continuing straightaway with a double water gun to the neck that threw the fighting-type hurtling backward and the tortoise himself recoiling into Nidorino with the back of his shell, knocking him flat. In the same motion he rolled himself upright again, while the both of them reeled amidst the haze and confusion.

"Hydro pump!"

He jumped and withdrew again, spinning faster and faster to hit all three opponents with the intense jets spraying from the rim of his shell. He landed back down with an earthshaking boom amidst their collapsed bodies.

"Challenger's monsters are unable to battle," the official ruled over the presumptive noise of the crowd, as if it even needed saying. "The defender is victorious!" They roared for him even louder than they had for the Baron, now on his knees, clutching his head in shocked disbelief.

"Blink and you miss it," Misty remarked with a crunch and a spray of crumbs. "That a record or something?"

"I expected nothing less," said Agatha.

Red would keep the adulation even shorter. Stepping between the fallen monsters, he followed Blastoise back over towards their seats.

"ピカピ, ピカピカ!" Pikachu cheered for them both, raising a paw to the sky.

Brock looked up at the sun. "It's getting late," he observed. "We should probably get–"

Pikachu cried out suddenly, pointing forward. "ピカピ!"

"ザード!"

"Look out!" yelled Misty as well.

Red spun around, just barely in time. Hyker charged at him with a crudely formed fist, mouth foaming like a wild beast. He ducked to avoid the blow, but the Baron collided with him with all of his bulk, enough to throw Red roughly onto his back, where he lay still for a moment on the sandy earth.

Charizard took flight in the next instant. He leapt over Brock and Misty's heads, cutting through the air like an arrow aimed straight at Hyker, who fell bewildered beneath the aerial tackle as if weighing nothing, dragged across the ground a fair distance. The lizard held him pinned with one three-toed foot, squeezing blood from his tender throat as he grasped in vain at the razor-sharp claws that dug into his flesh.

The enraged monster narrowed his slitted blue eyes, his breath shimmering from the heat building within. A boiling spittle dangled from his pointed tongue, stinging his victim on the cheek with a scalding sizzle. The man writhed in terror at the infernal agony awaiting him: Anyone who could survive a flamethrower at such close range would soon wish he had not.

Red sat himself up. "Release him!"

"リザ." He stepped aside and turned to face his master, blowing out the pent-up fire as an explosive blast into the air. Hyker meanwhile gasped in relief, but lay there quaking, drenched in sweat and frozen in fear, even as Arbok slithered down with Agatha to bind him up and drag him away.

Pikachu darted over to where Red had fallen, and Brock and Misty ran after. "ピカピ?"

They helped him to his feet. "Are you hurt?" Misty asked.

He dusted himself off and inspected his hands. "No no. Well," he sighed, "that was fun."

"You should take it easy," said Brock. "We can do Council tomorrow."

"Oh, right," Red recalled, squinting and scratching his head. "No, let's get it over with."

"リザードン!?" Charizard protested, running in front of them.

"I'll be fine, Char," Red assured him, patting the fiery monster on the knee. "Don't forget your session, now."

"ザ..." He remained as the humans dispersed.

* * *

**Next chapter: _Council_**


	3. Council

"Admiral Vincent is recognized," Misty called out.

The naval officer, a swarthy Seafoamer clad in a black mantle, came forward to kneel in the center of the circle of councillors sitting in the great echoing hall. "Thank you, my lady. Your Majesty, I come with a message from Elite Lorelei regarding the pirates of Vermillion Bay."

Red sat slouched over sideways, his bare foot dangling over his armrest. He flicked another grepa berry into the air, which Pikachu zapped with a hair-thin spark and caught in his mouth.

"Sire," Brock nudged at him discreetly.

"I'm listening," he said aloud, beckoning the Admiral to rise.

"Her Highness has completed her patrol of the southern waters," he began. "All of the pirate bands are defeated or in retreat. It is therefore her wish that I assume command of a squadron of twelve ships to supplement her fleet, and maintain the peace we have achieved."

"What is the opinion of the Council?" asked Misty, flipping a page in her notes.

"Honorable councillors," came the inevitable reply, this time from the graying middle-aged man who stood to speak. "With all due respect to my lord Admiral, having served in the imperial navy for over twenty years, I do question the strategic value of deploying offensive resources in such a constrained..."

It went on for some time in this way, councillors trading boasts and barbs, from which Brock soon tuned out to scratch aimlessly on his tablet. Some whispering back and forth between Misty and Red at last brought the debate to an end.

"You've got it?" asked Red, munching on a berry.

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Misty.

"Who's next, Brock?"

His checklist indicated only one more. "Brother Malachi."

The elderly monk so named stood up, slowly under the burden of years, holding a large scroll bound with a ribbon. "Yes, my lord. It will please Your Majesty–"

A loud commotion cut him off, calling all attention to the back of the room, where in burst Elite Agatha and the bloody and bruised Baron Hyker, whom she dragged along by the ear. Gengar, a dark specter whose presence seemed actually to darken the room, followed like a shadow with glowing eyes and a giddy smile.

"Excuse us, Your Highness," said Brock, "but we are in the middle of something, so if you'll–"

"The Council should see this insolent coward punished," said Agatha, throwing the wretched lump of a man down onto his hands and knees. "Shall the lizard finish what he started? Or," – she lifted her prisoner's chin up towards herself – "we can be creative..."

"ゲンガー," the ghost cackled.

"Madam, we must ask that you wait your turn," Misty reiterated.

"Miserable. Craven. A disgrace to trainers everywhere. This is what we have here, sire. A swift death would be too kind."

One of the other noblemen in attendance chimed in. "I second the honorable Elite. Myself having witnessed this morning's appalling spectacle, I am confident that I speak for all of my peers in condemning this sickening display of–"

"You won't do it again, right?" said Red.

Agatha gave the Baron a sharp kick in the rump. "N– no, Your Majesty," he stammered weakly. "I wouldn't dream of it!"

"You've learned your lesson, then?" He took a sudden interest in picking out the dirt from under his fingernails.

"I am Your Majesty's humble servant!" Hyker pressed his flustered pink face solidly into the ground. "I will never disobey you!"

Red plucked the last berry off of the stem, rolling it between his fingers before feeding it to Pikachu. "Let him go," he ordered.

Agatha's delight gave way to a wide-eyed indignation. "But sire, surely–"

"I won't repeat myself, Agatha." Red hardly ever raised his voice, even so slightly as that. She would know better than to persist.

"I am unworthy!" said Hyker, almost sobbing.

Red waved the bare grepa stem dismissively. "Yeah yeah, get him out of here."

The Elite took this as license to resume her rough treatment. "Get up, idiot!" she said, rapping him in the elbow with her staff. "You're lucky you're not worth a scrap of his time."

He staggered to his feet and backed away out of the room, bowing and limping as fast as his battered person could manage. Agatha shot a strong look at Red, perhaps hoping he might change his mind, before following the Baron out with her swift yet silent steps. Red lolled his head back, looking at Brock at an angle.

Brock cleared his throat to break the nervous silence. "You were saying, Brother?"

"Of course," he resumed, standing up again. "It will please Your Majesty to learn of the treaty between the Psychics and the Fighters in Saffron." He passed his scroll on to an attendant, who brought it forward to Brock. "Their long feud is over."

Brock unrolled the large document, reading aloud from the elegantly calligraphed heading. "Her Excellency Leader Sabrina and Lord Kiyo her faithful servant... Rather one-sided, don't you think?"

"The elemental advantage, my lord."

"I'm surprised she let them live," said Misty.

"The dead pay no tribute, as they say. Praise Lugia."

"Indeed," said Red. He snapped his fingers at Brock, who duly handed him the treaty. "Might've had to go over there ourselves."

The Council murmured with quiet agreement.

"Well, look at that," he continued, examining the wax seals dangling from the parchment. "Quite the promotion."

"I'm sorry?" asked the cleric.

"Reverend Blue, chief officiant," he read from the bottom, rolling it up and returning it to Brock. "Wonder what he's up to these days."

"ピカ?" said Pikachu.

"I regret I am not so informed."

"Well. Anyway."

"That is all, Your Majesty," the monk concluded, sitting back down.

"Are there any other matters for His Majesty's attention?" asked Misty. A long pause passed without reply, as Red stared off into space, seemingly lost in thought.

"They can't leave until you say so," Brock reminded him quietly.

Red closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You may go, councillors."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," they muttered together, and made their way out. As soon as the door had closed on the last of them, Red sat up and stretched his limbs, letting out a long yawn.

"Whew! Finally."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Brock replied out of habit, rifling through the stack of paperwork he had accumulated.

"Would you stop it?"

"Oh, sorry."

"So, that's it?" He bounced up to his feet.

"ピカ!" Pikachu chirped excitedly.

"Captain Jenny's on her way," said Misty. "Just returned from Johto."

"Are you sure?"

"They arrived late morning. I told her to come once Council finished."

"Do I really need to stay for this?"

"Come on now," she chided him. "You asked me to keep you informed."

"I have plans with Pidgeot later."

"It won't take long."

He plunked back into his seat. "Don't worry, Pi, we'll be done soon."

"ピカチュウ."

"Would someone mind telling me what's going on?" Brock interjected.

"Yeah, Misty, tell him."

"Well," she began, "it all started last summer. A few months ago, a dispatch of the Southwestern Legion began seeing a number of messenger pidgeys crossing the desert into Johto. They were suspicious, so they captured one and read the message. It was written in code."

"I remember, you showed me that," said Brock. "Couldn't make head or tail of it."

"Neither could we. But the birds kept coming. We sent Captain Jenny into Johto to find out where they were going. They tracked them to a village on the outskirts of Azalea Town."

"Azalea's an independent domain," he pointed out. "We're in a delicate situation with them. You have to be careful sending troops that far."

"I know. An investigative patrol, nothing more. Kept it a secret, for just that reason."

"So, they found something?"

"They did. But her letter said she wouldn't trust a messenger. She'll tell us when she gets here."

"While we're young, please," said Red, leaning his cheek on his palm, flicking Pikachu's ear listlessly.

The doors rattled again, opened by the two guards on the outside. "Captain Jenny of the Southwestern Legion!" one of them announced.

Misty smirked. "What do you know."

The Captain entered and approached, eyes fixed straight ahead, her armor and equipment rattling with each step, as her Growlithe's claws squeaked on the smooth floor beside her. She knelt down on the center tile and prostrated herself with a swift, practiced motion, and the bushy-tailed monster did likewise the four-legged analogue.

"Welcome back, Captain," said Misty.

She uprighted herself. "Thank you, my lady."

"A fire-type, I see," said Red.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"ガーディ," the canine barked.

Red leaned forward and grinned, showing his teeth. "Wanna meet mine?"

In a slight hunch of the shoulders and a fleeting glance at her companion, a twinge of unease peeked through the Captain's hardened demeanor. "It would be a tremendous honor," she replied. They dared not refuse this ominous invitation.

"She's on our side, remember?" Misty whispered into his ear.

"I'm being friendly."

"You're being a bully."

"Forget it," he resigned with a sigh, and turned back to address Jenny. "So, go ahead."

"Yes, Your Majesty. We followed the trail of the messenger pidgeys to a village in West Azalea. We tracked them down to the house of a blacksmith living near Ilex Forest. We entered the house to apprehend him, but he had filled it with a flammable material. He ignited it before we could stop him. The explosion destroyed the house, killing him and five of our troops."

Red looked down at the floor, taking this in. He counted to six on his hand.

"ピカ," offered Pikachu.

"Continue," said Misty.

"Yes, my lady. Outside we found another soldier, who had been killed by a bite to the neck. We interrogated the locals. Witnesses reported seeing a boy about ten years of age escape the village shortly after the incident. Some described a rattata with him. We believe they are connected."

"Where is this boy now?" asked Brock. He pulled out a map from under his chair, supposing it might help to follow along.

"We do not know. We searched the edge of the forest but did not find him. "

He studied the map. "How long ago?"

"Eleven days," she answered. "We did not want to delay any further before reporting back. But I will take it upon myself to assemble a fully equipped team to locate and–"

"Seven's enough, Captain," said Red. "You're dismissed."

She froze for a moment at the sharp rebuke, but along with Growlithe quickly bowed again. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said once more, and departed their presence without delay or further ceremony. The monster followed on her heels out the door.

"What was that for?" said Misty. "We weren't done yet."

"I don't like where this is going."

"It's a shame what happened, I know," she admitted. "But you don't need to be so harsh."

"She's right, you know," said Brock. "Officers have to make tough decisions. You can't punish them for that."

"Punish? Who said that?"

"You might as well have," Brock replied. "I'd be pretty scared now, if I were her."

"Oh, don't be silly."

"Look," said Misty, "we've been through this. You have to be careful."

"All right, I'm sorry," he relented. "Invite her back for dinner or something."

"I'll do that," she replied. "I appreciate it."

"So, what do we do now?" asked Brock.

"Well, we still need to find this boy," said Misty. "We've already seen evidence linking the coded messages to insurgent activity within our own borders. Now we know they'd rather die than reveal their secrets. Whoever these people are, they're dangerous and violent."

"I won't disagree. But look." Brock spread out the map onto the small table next to him. "Here's West Azalea. Eleven days, a boy on foot could've gone as far as Goldenrod. By the time we get there, even farther." He traced a circular arc, bounded by the coastline to the south. "It's like finding an oddish in a meadow."

"You'd be surprised," said Misty. "Our troops don't play around."

"You'd send an army to Goldenrod's doorstep? We've repeatedly assured them we wouldn't."

"So what's your plan? Give up?"

"ピ ピカ ピカチュウ, ピカピ," said Pikachu.

"No, I don't think so," Red replied, shaking his head.

"ピカ ピカ?"

"It wouldn't, believe me."

"What's that?" Brock wondered, a little confused.

"But come to think of it..." Red snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up, as he rose from his chair. "I know. I have an idea."

Brock and Misty exchanged looks. No telling where this would end...

* * *

_Tell Lance to come here._ Yes, Your Majesty, whatever you say. You make it sound so simple, thought Brock.

He climbed the long spiral stairs of the Messengers' Tower, that he might catch sight of the Elite from the top. He leaned against the curved stone wall as the air grew thin and his breath heavy. Who knew where Lance might have gone by now? Not that he especially looked forward to meeting him.

He emerged through the trap-door to the roof, staying cautiously to the center of the unrailed circular platform, and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the clear daylight undimmed by the city's haze. From here, as he turned around, he could see the Stadium, the Imperial Palace complex by the river, and the foothills of the Diglett Mountains fading out to the eastern horizon.

In the bright sky above, three winged creatures cast an unmistakable shadow, and on one of them he could make out the shape of a human rider. The monsters circled around each other, rolling and maneuvering, exchanging attacks. Reluctantly he gave them a wave.

Even this far away, they saw him at once. Dragonite broke off, leaving Aerodactyl and Charizard to their mock battle, and approached rapidly, growing larger, showing no sign of slowing...

"カイリュー!"

Like a punch to the gut, the dragon grabbed hold of his torso in one hand and swept him off his feet, hurtling him through the air so fast that his eyes watered from the wind and his cry of fear blew away unheard. He held on for dear life to the cold hooked talons that poked him in the chest as they spiraled around the tower, descending bit by bit, at last landing on a grassy hill by the edge of the city. Dragonite threw him to the ground, where he lay on his face, thankful once again for the touch of solid earth.

"You fool!" Lance stomped over towards him. "You'll get yourself killed!"

"I'm sorry, sir..." he panted through exhausted breaths, rolling onto his back.

Lance yanked him up by the shoulders, dangling him off the ground, squinting through his clouded flight goggles. "Never obstruct the landing, understand?"

"Can you put me down?"

He dropped him roughly back to the ground, and tore off the goggles. "So. I assume it's important."

Brock regarded the imposing figure standing over him, covered all over in heavy leather aviator's armor, dusted with frost from the icy upper air, with thick black gloves and boots, and the flashy crimson cape he always seemed to wear. All told, not the easiest man to give orders to.

"The Champion sent me, Your Highness."

"Is that so."

He stood up, working up the courage to look the Elite in the eye, and to give Red's command the dignity it deserved. "His Majesty has need of your skills."

* * *

**Next chapter: _Tall Grass_**


End file.
